


Sweet Contraband

by skyfireflight16



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Gift Exchange, Gren and Ezran bonding over jelly tarts, Jelly Tarts, Pre-Canon, TDP Holiday Exchange, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22245892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyfireflight16/pseuds/skyfireflight16
Summary: While taking leave from his post at the Breach, Gren meets a little jelly tart thief in the castle garden. (Takes place about 3 years before the main events of the show.)Written for the TDP holiday gift exchange for @honeylemon2346 on Tumblr / @honeylemon2363 on instagram
Relationships: Amaya & Gren (The Dragon Prince), Gren & Ezran
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	Sweet Contraband

_Takes place about 3 years before season 1_

Gren didn’t visit the castle often. He and General Amaya were usually stationed at the Breach. It was a constant, 24/7 job for the most part, keeping the border safe from potential invaders. Being Amaya’s voice as she relayed orders to her soldiers, or spoke to anyone else, really.

But times like these were nice. A reprieve from the thick clouds of smoke that blocked out the sun, and the constant heat that rose up from the river of lava below (and always being in armor certainly didn’t help).

What _did_ help was knowing that he was doing an important job – for his kingdom, Katolis, but also... for Amaya. Amaya’s presence, getting to help her and interact with her every day, made being at the border much more bearable, even enjoyable. And even though he’d only been her voice for a year, and she was the general...he could say that Amaya was becoming a friend.

Still, it was nice to have some time off, away from the border.

The eldest prince’s 12th birthday had been yesterday, and Amaya had taken leave to celebrate. Gren had been by her side most of the time at the castle, tagging along with her at Prince Callum’s birthday party, interpreting for Amaya when she spoke to attendees – councilmembers, townspeople, even some ambassadors from other kingdoms coming to wish Callum well – and stuffing his face with strawberries, shortcake, and jelly tarts between conversations.

The party was over now, but Amaya wanted to be with her brother-in-law and nephews a little while longer, so she and Gren were to stay a couple more days before returning to the Breach.

Today, Amaya was in the castle with Callum; Gren would have followed, but Amaya had waved him away with a fond smile and told him to relax and have some time to himself.

Now Gren found himself in the castle garden. He stood near one of the trees there, enjoying the sight of the greenery. The summer breeze felt cool against his skin, and he basked in the feeling. Though the weather was still warm, the heat was nothing compared to that of the border. And he was without his armor for once.

A _creeaak_ came from somewhere beside him, and Gren turned to the source of the sound. A square grate that he hadn’t noticed before was lying face down on the ground. There was a stuttered scraping sound, and right after it, a tray piled high with jelly tarts slid from a hole in the wall and clattered on the ground, some of the jelly tarts toppling from the heap. Fluffy brown hair and its owner tumbled out, followed by a grumpy groan and a large, glowing frog.

The owner of the fluffy brown hair was a little boy. Gren took a second to recognize who it was. He remembered the child flitting around the grand hall yesterday at the party, plate piled high with sweets, and small hands coming up from under tables to swipe from trays. And honestly, it was adorable – though he had worried the little boy would get a sugar rush and would be too hyper to go to sleep that night.

The royal colors on his clothes and his resemblance to King Harrow made no question of who it was.

The little boy was Prince Ezran.

Gren watched as Ezran fitted the grate back into the hole in the wall, taking a few tries and grunts of effort before he succeeded. The prince then picked up the tray and stood, several more jelly tarts dropping to the ground with soft patters.

He turned, and caught Gren watching him.

The boy froze, eyes going wide like a deer caught in the light of a night traveler’s lantern. Below him, the large glowing frog gulped down jelly tarts from the ground with a swipe of its tongue. Gren raised his eyebrows.

Ezran blinked once. “Uh….” He braced the tray against his chest with one hand, and held a tart out to Gren with the other. “Jelly tart?”

Gren was _pretty_ sure that the boy wasn’t supposed to have all those jelly tarts. Especially if how he was sneaking around and his reaction to being seen was any indication. And Ezran’s sheepish tone and smile further confirmed his suspicions.

Still, none of those jelly tarts were making their way back to the baker’s, or wherever they came from, any time soon. They probably wouldn’t want them back anyway, having been taken through air ducts.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt.

“Thank you. I would _love_ a jelly tart.” Gren gave the youngest prince a small bow before taking the offered dessert. Ezran giggled.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” Ezran said. He placed the tray on a nearby bench, even more jelly tarts falling off, and plopped down next to it. The glowing frog – glow toad, Gren’s mind finally supplied – hopped over and began eating jelly tarts off the ground. Ezran took a tart from the pile and started munching on it, his legs swinging back and forth in the air.

Gren went over and sat down beside him. “I’m Commander Gren. I work for your aunt Amaya; I’m her sign language interpreter.” He took a bite of the jelly tart.

 _Mmmmm._ An apple jelly tart. It was _delicious_.

“Oh, yeah!” Ezran’s eyes lit up. “I remember you! You were at the party yesterday!”

“Mmhmm,” Gren replied through a mouthful of jelly tart. He finished and swallowed. “That’s right. And I seem to remember _you_ swiping a lot of sweets from the tables.”

Ezran giggled around his next bite.

“These jelly tarts are _really good_ ,” Gren said.

“Yeah, they’re the best!”

“Now,” Gren decided to solidify his suspicions, “I must know. Where did you get all these delicious jelly tarts?”

“From the baker’s.” Ezran’s tone was light and betrayed nothing as he took another tart from the stack. 

“Did the baker give you all these jelly tarts? He’s pretty generous.”

Ezran paused mid-chew. “Well….” He looked down at his swinging feet, not meeting Gren’s eyes. “He didn’t _exactly_ give them to me.”

Gren just furrowed his brow and tilted his head in a show of confusion, encouraging Ezran to continue.

“We sorta…well, Bait and I, we…,” his shoulders hunched sheepishly as he met Gren’s eyes, and he stopped swinging his feet, crossing his ankles and curling his legs inward, “kinda…just…took them…without permission?” He looked away, back down at his feet. “We stole them.”

Yep, suspicions confirmed.

“I’m sure the baker wasn’t very happy.”

Ezran shook his head, sighing and sounding a bit ashamed of himself. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Tell you what,” Gren said, taking another of the sweet contraband. “Why don’t we make it up to him?”

Ezran’s gaze drifted back to Gren. “How?”

Gren looked around at the trees in the garden, many of them heavy with ripe apples. “Are we allowed to pick the apples?”

“Uh-huh!”

“We can take some apples to the baker and help him make more jelly tarts. I’m sure he’d like that. What do you say?”

“Yeah!” Ezran nodded eagerly. “I can get some baskets from the gardener.” The little boy hopped off the bench and ran out of the garden. Gren smiled and took a big bite of jelly tart.

A few minutes later, Ezran returned with two big baskets. Gren stifled a chuckle; the baskets were almost as big as he was, too large for his small arms, and he leaned backwards as he struggled to carry them.

“Here, let me help.” Gren got up from the bench and took one of the baskets. He made a show of hoisting it up and making it look heavier than it was. Ezran giggled.

“Let’s get apple picking!” he cheered.

The two got to work.

Despite Ezran’s strains and grunts of effort, the 7-year-old couldn’t reach the apples dangling from the tree branches. Gren smiled and lifted Ezran up onto his shoulders.

With a “whoa!” and giggle from Ezran, then they _really_ got to work.

Gren carried Ezran on his shoulders as they went from tree to tree, one hand on the boy’s leg to keep him steady, and the other hand keeping the basket braced against his torso. Ezran did most of the picking, and Gren was able to shift his grip on the basket to reach a few of them.

In the end, they had 1 and ½ baskets full of ripe red apples.

They made their way to the bakery – through the streets this time, not the air ducts – Gren carrying the full basket and Ezran tottering with the half-full basket hugged to his chest.

The baker was _delighted._

Barius, as Gren learned his name was, let the two of them mix the dough as he prepared the apples, Ezran sneaking in bites of dough, and both he and Bait swiping apple pieces. The baker didn’t scold, though the way Ezran paused right after he snatched an apple slice said the little boy was expecting him to; Barius simply smiled at him fondly and said, “Just make sure there’s enough to make the jelly tarts with.” And Gren himself snuck in a few bites, too.

That was part of the fun, after all.

By the time they were done, Gren and Ezran were covered in flour, bits of dough, apple jelly, and powdered sugar. With a laugh from both of them, Gren ruffled Ezran’s hair to get some of the powdered sugar out of it. Luckily, Barius had given them both aprons – though Ezran’s dwarfed him – and washing up in the sink was easy.

And there were _plenty_ of jelly tarts. More than plenty. Enough to make up many times over for the ones Ezran had stolen.

Barius insisted they take home half.

They carried back three baskets full – three baskets lined with white cloth and filled to the brim with the sweet apple jelly tarts. Ezran carried one, and Gren carried the other two, one in each arm.

Gren also carried the gardener’s baskets – stacked together, upside down, on his head like a floppy winter hat made of woven pieces of wood. Some townspeople gave them a few looks. He gave the townspeople cheery greetings and warm smiles.

When they got back, they seated themselves on the bench in the castle garden. A basket lay beside each of them, the third basket at their feet. Bait sat in between them.

(The tray that Ezran had stolen was empty, and now lay beneath the bench; apparently Bait had cleared it while the two of them were picking apples. Gren made a mental note to make sure the tray got back to the baker.)

Ezran was munching away, his legs swinging happily. “These are the best jelly tarts ever!” he said through a mouthful of jelly tart, his voice muffled.

Gren chuckled and grinned. “They _are_ the best jelly tarts ever,” he agreed. He wasn’t sure what they were going to do with all of these pastries, though. The two of them – well, three of them – couldn’t eat them all at once. He figured the kitchen staff would know what to do with them.

“We should do this…,” Ezran said with his voice still muffled, then he swallowed, “more often.”

The castle garden was peaceful, with the cool, fresh air, the greenery and colorful plants bathed in the late afternoon light, and the silence except for the prince munching, birds chirping, and the leaves rustling in the wind.

The silence was interrupted when Amaya and Prince Callum entered the garden, with a “Are you sharing?” from Callum, and a fond smile and a signed “Enjoying yourself, I see,” from Amaya as she surveyed the scene in front of her.

Gren nodded with a smile of his own.

He basked in the peacefulness of his surroundings, the taste of sweet not-contraband on his tongue, and thought that this was a nice way for him to spend his leave.

And yes, Gren thought, he would have to visit the castle more often.


End file.
